


Ora

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Female Bilbo, Female Bofur, Sexual Fantasy, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 07:46:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4598619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo eyes Bofur and wonders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ora

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Bofur says a few good things with her mouth, and Bilbo (Bilba, Billa, etc.) wants her mouth to do a good thing somewhere else” prompt on [the Hobbit Kink Meme](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/9471.html?thread=20439807#t20439807).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

She’s at it again. She’s singing, as she so often is, this time still perched on a log but with a voice that does the dancing for her, lifting all the heavy hearts around the campfire. It’s been a long, hard day, like they’ve all been on this journey, but Bilbo’s feet seem less sore with Bofur’s raspy voice belting out a wild melody.

She can’t just sing _songs_ , too, she has to pick elaborate poetry, already crude and even sometimes _dirty_ , dipped in the occasional sensual purr and an already erotic voice. She makes it worse by winking here and there, elbowing Nori beside her or shaking her body to the beat, always earning a cry of delight from the other dwarves. They’re a rowdy bunch, and their women are no better, and some nights it makes Bilbo uncomfortable but mostly just makes her _squirm_. Bofur can belch and guffaw as loud as the rest of them, but she can also say the sweetest things and hum the nicest songs, and sometimes she’ll wet her lips between breaths and Bilbo will just _stare_.

It’s after dinner. They’re sitting under the light of the stars, the fire flickering. They’ll go to their bedrolls soon, each alone, Bilbo the most so: the only hobbit and too civilized to huddle against bawdy men the way the rest of them do. But she might think, as she occasionally slips into, of _Bofur_ , kind, charming, gorgeous Bofur, with her long mustache and dimpled cheeks and bright, lively eyes. Here and there, Bilbo pictures sitting next to Bofur by the fire and offering to braid her hair, untwisting the existing mess to run trembling fingers through the coarse brown locks. Mostly Bilbo thinks of _that mouth_ , with that rough voice and silky tongue and thick, foreign accent. Bofur’s so very _good_ with it, be it just words or song, and she’d probably be good at _other things_ , too.

Civilized hobbits don’t think of that, of course. They don’t look at their friends, imagine how soft those large tits might be, nearly spilling out of a ragged tunic with half the lacing undone, or of creamy thighs and fat hips and work-calloused muscles. And raw, unquenchable energy, virility. Bofur can talk and talk or sing for hours: maybe she could go _all night long_ with her big tongue pressed between Bilbo’s legs, mustache tickling her thighs. Bofur’s unafraid of everything—she’d probably dive right in—bury her handsome face in Bilbo’s ripe pussy and lick along her wet slit, coax her open to curl inside, fuck her hard and fast with strong hands holding her legs wide open. Bilbo shivers just thinking about it, subtly drawing her legs together, while she stares at Bofur’s pink lips across the fire, still slick from the last time they were licked. 

It’s likely that Bofur’s experienced. She’s friendly, jovial, everyone likes her—and she’s _hot_ ; she’s probably got a hoard of suitors back home that like to put that eager throat to use. She eats Nori’s awful cooking without complaint—she’d probably swallow down any juices she earned, licking moist trails up Bilbo’s thighs. Maybe she’d even shove her nose into Bilbo’s honey curls, spread her lips wide and _suck_ at Bilbo’s dripping folds, and Bilbo would cry out and buck her hips into Bofur’s pretty face, fingers buried in her hair. 

Maybe she’d hum while she did it. Or at least talk, seduce Bilbo so easily with dirty promises, murmuring filth into her pussy whilst trailing kisses up her flesh. Bofur could tell Bilbo all the fantasies she had in return, and Bilbo would moan and tremble and promise to fulfill every one, if only Bofur would lick her to completion. And then Bofur would smirk and purr Bilbo’s name, diving in to suck her clit and fuck her _hard_ —

“Bilbo?”

Bilbo only answers with a little moan, the heel of her palm coming to press against her mouth. It’s belated when she realizes the voice didn’t come from her waking dream, and she glances at the object of her affections, past all the other staring dwarves. While Bilbo flushes fiercely, Bofur asks, “Why’re you staring at me?”

And Bilbo, light-headed and on the spot, mumbles stupidly, “I like your mouth.” Then her face goes from pink to red, and the only thing that stops her from running off in shame is Bofur’s pleased grin.

The rest of the dwarves burst out laughing, and Bofur deliberately licks her lips, winking to tease, “Thanks.”


End file.
